Page 93 of Bar Down Baby!
“It looks like yours,” she said. It was my turn to gasp, exaggerated shock on my face to match hers.
“You are so right, Mina.” I held out my fist for her to bump, and she did without a moment’s hesitation. Barry watched the whole exchange, his every hopeful emotion evident in his face. I was frightened by how much I wanted to sink into the warmth there, wanted to believe that he could love me, independent of being the mother of his own soon-to-be baby.
“Can I have one of these?” Nilson asked, pointing to my plate. I peeled off the Saran Wrap, and all three of them took one before Hunter touched my wrist and nodded toward the kitchen. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Barry got intercepted by one of the rookies before he could make it with me to the very nice arrangement of foods set up on the kitchen island that made mine look like a bar table.
I was almost embarrassed to set my red and green paper plate next to all the platters of gorgeous desserts, hors d’oeuvres, meats, and vegetables. Kate would lose her shit; she loved formal food spreads. I did too. I really would have been embarrassed about my contribution to what I thought was a potluck if Hunter hadn’t reached for another pretzel and groaned, saying she loved them.
I loaded up a plate with way too much food—eating for two, etc.—and Hunter poured me a cranberry lemonade and took me to a dining table where six other women were chatting. They were all so polished in my eyes: perfect highlights, nice clothes, sparkly wedding rings, just what I imagined when I thought about the wives and girlfriends of professional athletes. I felt embarrassed sitting down with my mountain of food, hair frizzy even when I curled it.
Hunter introduced the women—Lucy, Eden, Claire, Finley, Rebecca, and Marissa—and I wished we could be wearing name tags. Their easy conversation and banter spoke to a closeness formed over years for many of them, seasons of team events and supporting each other while their partners were on the road for half of the season.
I felt like an imposter.
Food was delicious, though.
“I love your jewelry, I am a sucker for beaded necklaces like that,” Marissa said. I touched the two necklaces, both by Mom. She put a little gold charm of a Christmas tree in the center of one.
“My mom made them. She has an online shop,” I reported tothe delight of the table. “She started making ones with the team colors after Barry got traded, I bet she’d give you some.”
They all got out their phones to bring up her shop, exclaiming that in no way would they accept free jewelry from my mother (they were better than me in this, I loved getting free jewelry from her). Seven orders were placed before I’d even finished my green beans.
“She’ll lose her shit if you post wearing them on Instagram.”
“Consider it done,” one of the women—Eden?—said. “Now can we talk about Barry?”
Next to Eden, Lucy dropped her head in her palm.
“Eden.”
“What? We all want to know.”
I glanced to the living room where Barry was in a conversation with some of the coaching staff, his eyes skirting toward me. He grinned when he caught me looking, and I sighed before turning back to the group of women who watched the silent exchange with wide, excited eyes.
“We’re not together,” I said.
“Does he know that?” Lucy asked as she took a bite of a Chantilly cake. A few of the others chuckled, and I’m sure my cheeks flamed.
“When we hooked up, we were both visiting New York. I didn’t think I’d see him again, but then he got traded and I ran into him, and here we are.”
“How’d you bump into him?” Marissa asked.
I took a sip of my lemonade—exquisite, by the way—and braced myself. I wasn’t ashamed of the family business or what I did for work—really, I wasn’t. But I felt like I did when I was telling Barry’s parents, like maybe these rich, lovely people would think less of me for it.
“I do custodial at the training facility,” I explained, trying my hardest not to sound like this was something I should be embarrassed about.
After a brief pause, the brunette woman to my left, Finley,exclaimed, “Oh! You’re the janitor Mike told me about. You clean in the mornings?”
“Yes, he’s so nice.” Mike Redmond was one of the players who always stopped to chat with me when the team had early practice. He often told me about his two-year-old daughter and asked how the pregnancy was treating me.
“That’s cool you work there,” Lucy said, and I believed she meant it.
“My husband said Barry just follows you around all the time before practice, is that true?” Rebecca asked. I thought about it for a moment, then tilted my head side to side.
“He does,” I agreed after a moment, and they made a variety of exclaiming noises and hoots that made me feel instantly like part of the group. I couldn’t help the smile pushing up my cheeks.
Marissa leaned on her elbows on the table, fully invested in the story.
